Friendships Not Broken
by KoolJack1
Summary: I saw FFs writing themselves while I watched 1.07. Spoilers for episode 1.07, I strongly suggest you watch it first, since this takes place right after Will and Hannibal talk in his office at the end. Takes place during the few days Hannibal took off from his practice after the incident. Hannibal/Will friendship, maybe something more. Rating subject to change, since I may add more.
1. Chapter 1

Will keeps his eyes on the floor, listening to Hannibal's uneven breaths as he sits still. Will hadn't seen the fight, but looking at Tobias and looking at Hannibal, he'd say Hannibal took the worst of it. His friend is disheveled, which leaves Will having a hard time looking at him. Hannibal Lecter is always prim, proper, and prepared. Visualizing him in a physical altercation was hard, seeing him bloodied and shaken was even harder. Will looks up when Hannibal makes a quiet noise in his throat, but the other man's eyes are on his leg. Will follows his gaze too, crouching down without thinking and reaching to move Hannibal's hand. "You're lucky it missed your knee," he says without thinking, but Hannibal's a doctor and he already knows anything Will could tell him. There is silence that follows, and Will places the rag back on it and the other man's hand comes up to apply pressure again. Will doesn't stand up, but he looks up at Hannibal's face. The man looks shaken, unnerved; that's expected. To be honest, Will's not sure how he's sitting upright. His clothes are destroyed, and paramedics removed shards of glass from a cut on his head that was apparently from his own table. Hannibal isn't looking down at him, instead his head is bowed and his eyes are closed. He almost looks peaceful, and Will can't help but notice the way his hair is hanging in his face; he can't help but notice it looks blonder than usual.

"Jack," Will calls as he stands up. He suddenly feels responsible for this happening to his friend, a man that never would have been in the middle of this if it weren't for him. He never envisioned there would be a time when Hannibal needed him, but his time to take control and look after his friend had arrived. _I do appreciate the company._ Jack came over to them, Hannibal never raised his head, but Jack's eyes drift from him to Will. "He can leave, right?" Jack takes a deep breath, and then nods slowly. "I'm going to take him to my place," Will says confidently. Hannibal looks up then, shaking his head slightly to get his hair out of his eyes. He's silent, and Will takes that as acceptance to his offer. "You don't need me here, Jack. You already know what happened, we can look at the rest tomorrow." Will can see in Jack's eyes he wants to protest, but Jack looks away and his eyes meet Hannibal's. The two men stare at each other, and Will looks between the both of them. Jack has no expression, and Hannibal just looks...tired; pained.

"If he doesn't think he needs to be taken to a hospital, then I'll see you both tomorrow," Jack turns around and doesn't look back.

Will returns to Hannibal's side, "I can manage on my own, Will. You haven't been sleeping well, you need your rest." Hannibal's voice isn't as commanding as usual, and Will jumps at the opportunity.

"Truthfully, I don't want to be alone and I'm almost positive you don't either. But if you'd prefer it..." Will's voice trails off, and he looks away from Hannibal's eyes.

"I would enjoy your company," he confirms after a brief silence. Will doesn't let it show, but he's pleased.

"I rode with Jack, I didn't bring my car. I'll ask one of the officers to take us, I don't think you should drive."

Hannibal attempts to stand, wincing, and Will automatically reaches for his arm to steady him. "You can drive my car," Lecter replied, leaning heavily on Will. He can't deny his body hurts, badly. Tobias was stronger, though Hannibal didn't like admitting it to himself. For a moment, he was concerned the other man was going to overpower him right in his own office. He was physically strong, but the way the other man was unrelenting; the way he'd thrown him across the room. His back ached, his chest hurt to breathe, everything hurt. He hadn't hurt this bad in as long as he could remember. Being nearly beaten to death had knocked him off balance; disrupted his mental control. A lot of things were disrupting him lately. Tobias, his attached patient, his overwhelming urge to establish a real friendship with Will, his attraction to Alana; it was sidetracking him from his usual activities. He was functioning too closely in a world he didn't belong in. Trouble was, he _liked_ Will. He wanted Will around him, he _enjoyed_ his company. Pity that Will establishing a friendship with him would eventually cost the man his life, because Hannibal knew there was no other way for it to end. Yet the way Will took control of the situation; stepped up and decided he wasn't going to leave him alone because he cared. The way Will's arm was tightly around his waist as he hobbled towards the door of his own office, not caring that all eyes in the room were on them. The way Hannibal sensed that Will was suspicious of him, but still continued to care about him in a way no one ever did before, made Hannibal's stone heart slightly softer. He swallowed thickly, trying to put more weight on his leg that hurt in more places then just where he'd been stabbed.

Once out of the room, Will seemed to relax; "You took a pretty serious beating, and here I thought you were pretty much indestructible."

Hannibal huffed slightly, a smile playing on his bloodied lips, "I'm far from indestructible, especially in physical altercations. I didn't want to have to hurt him, he had the upper hand due to my hesitation to fight back."

"He would have beaten you to death, Hannibal," Will said, he voice quiet. Lecter took note that this was the first time since he met Will that he addressed him by his first name.

"Indeed he would have," they're at his car, and he flinches when he goes to move his left arm to retrieve his keys in his pocket, "I do think I have to check myself over, I'm not sure where hurts worse." Will reached across him, taking his keys out of his jacket pocket.

"I really never thought I would have the chance to say this," Will said, hitting the unlock button and opening the door, "but you look like hell."

Hannibal laughed slightly, feeling strangely lighthearted as his friend offered a hand to help him ease into the passenger seat, "I must say I feel like hell too, I can't imagine what I look like."

Will closed the door and walked around the front of his car, "We'll clean you up and you'll be looking like yourself in no time. I don't have as wide a selection of food as you do, but I can make us something and you can stay at my house until tomorrow. I have some clothes you can change into, and plenty of first aid supplies," Will's rambling, and Hannibal is curious as to why he is so nervous. He's already decided to let Will tend to him, though he isn't sure why. Perhaps it's alright, occasionally, to allow someone else to care enough to mend you when you need it. Did he need mending right now? Certainly not over killing Tobias, or his patient, which no one knew about. He even felt guilty, sending Will after Tobias knowing it could have very easily gotten him killed. He didn't want that, even though he'd sent him there knowing it was more than likely. He'd regretted the choice when Tobias had shown up at his office, it had made it real for him. He'd really thought it had happened, and the thought of someone else killing Will was painful. "I'm not nearly as good a host as you are, but I can try to make it work. I'm not the best nurse so maybe we could stop at the ER, just to have you checked out?"

Will glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and Hannibal rested the back of his head against the headrest. His body throbbed just about everywhere, and he was anxious to check himself over and survey the damage, but the thought of sitting in a hospital was repulsive. "They can't do anything I can't do, no hospitals."

Will wanted to argue, and his concern for his wellbeing was strangely comforting. "You look really tired, I've never seen you look so exhausted."

He felt completely drained, and he let his eyes fall closed, "I am beyond tired," he felt his skin starting to get sticky and dry from his blood on his skin, and he couldn't wait to clean himself off, "You don't have to be a host for me, Will. I just need a friend, don't be someone you aren't. I know you don't often have company."

Will cleared his throat slightly, "I just know you like things clean and tidy, I just know you. I know we're very different people and I don't want you to hate my company or my house."

"You're forgetting I've already been to your house and it doesn't bother me in the slightest, and I could never hate your company. You and I aren't so different Will, by now you shouldn't feel you have to be someone you aren't around me. I'm too tired for appearances right now anyway, we can close that gap of our differences for the night." He doesn't bother opening his eyes.

He must have dosed off, because when he opens his eyes again, Will is standing next to him with his car door opened. Will looks at him awkwardly, "We're here, I feel bad waking you." He sits up slowly, his body protesting. He's stiff and sore, and he's careful as he steps out of the car and onto the dirt below. The car beeps when Will hits the lock button, and they walk towards the dark house in silence. Will doesn't help him, but he walks slowly next to him. Hannibal hears the dogs on the other side of the door as Will fumbles with the key, and he hangs back when the door finally opens and all Will's pets run out. "No jumping," Will says sternly, and the dogs obediently sniff at his legs instead. Will turns on the lights inside, kicking a dog toy away from the front door as Hannibal follows him in.

"I uh, are you hungry?" Will shuts the door behind him, knowing the dogs won't roam far.

"Not so much," Hannibal looks towards the stairs, "Perhaps you could show me a place to get cleaned up?"

Will looks as if he's suddenly remembered the other man has his own blood caked on his face and in his hair, "Upstairs, let me help you." They awkwardly manage up the stairs, and Will turns on the hallway light and leads him into the bathroom. Lecter only briefly looks at his disgusting reflection, seeing instantly why Will said he looked like hell, then gingerly sits on the lid of the toilet, and Will retrieves a first aid kit and rubbing alcohol from his cabinets. Hannibal expects him to leave, but instead he begins unpacking the supplies. He feels Hannibal's eyes on him, and looks up, "Unless you'd rather I didn't help."

Hannibal carefully slips his jacket off his arms and hangs it from the towel rack screwed into the wall, "If you feel comfortable, then by all means."

Will has a cotton ball in his fingers, wets it with alcohol, and turns towards him, "Tilt your head back." Surprised by Will's boldness, he does as he's told. It stings when the wet cotton touches his split lip, and he flinches. Will works rather quickly, cleaning the dried blood from his face, even using tweezers to pluck a stray piece of glass from his head that the paramedics missed. "I'm alright with outer damage, but do you have a concussion? Or any broken bones?" Will feels stupid, asking the man to determine his own condition, maybe the hospital would have been better.

"Well, without any tests I can't be certain, but if I thought I was hurt that badly I would have gone to the hospital," Hannibal kept his eyes on the wall across from him, trying to keep Will from being uncomfortable. He'd done this to himself before, even given himself stitches in the past, but having someone else tend to him wasn't an entirely bad feeling. "I don't feel dizzy, faint, or nauseous, but I haven't looked at the rest of me."

Will steps back, surprising Hannibal even more, leaving him room to unbutton his shirt. He does, revealing dark bruises on his chest and stomach. Will's eyes don't look at him until he's slipped the shirt off himself and is looking down to investigate. He gets up, using the mirror to see more clearly. His arm has a red ring around it, where the wire had tightened around it. His chest and abdomen has some darkening bruising, and theres a nasty gash on his hip. "Wow," is all Will says, and their eyes meet in the mirror. Will looks empathetic, he's empathizing with him. It's intriguing, and he prods his chest and winces. "Anything really serious?"

"No, it doesn't appear so. These will need some time to heal, but a hot shower and some ice should ease the ache." He's relieved the damage isn't serious, and he can tell Will is too. When he undoes his belt, that's when Will's eyes go wide.

"Don't worry, I'll roll my pant leg up to check on my leg," he's slightly amused, then bewildered when Will kneels to untie his shoelaces so he didn't have to bend down. He keeps the surprise off his face, toeing out of his shoes and and pulling the pant leg up. As bad as it hurts, the stab is nothing more than flesh and tissue wound, missing anything important. It had stopped bleeding on it's own already, and Hannibal moved his ankle which was sore. "That'll need ice, and the wound will need a bandage, but I was fortunate."

Will doesn't reply, but reaches for a bandage to wrap Hannibal's leg in, the rubbing alcohol burns terribly and he bites his lip while Will cleans it. He even sticks one over the gash on his hip, and wraps his swollen arm. The tenderness in his movements are intriguing, and Hannibal smiles at him slightly when he shoves everything back in the kit and puts it away again. "Thank you Will, you're an exceptional friend."

Will snorts slightly, pushing his glasses higher on his nose, "After everything you do for me, I owe you."

"Friends don't owe each other for their kindness," he replies simply.

Will leads him out of the room and into his bedroom. "I don't have a spare room, but you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the recliner," Hannibal noted the old recliner in the corner of the room, "or down on the couch if you prefer." Will's digging around in his drawers, and Hannibal sits on the edge of his bed. He's never been in Will's room, yet it looks exactly how he'd imagined it would. Finding what he was searching for, Will turns and hands him a plain white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. "I'll hang your stuff up in the bathroom and you can go shower and change, I'll feed the dogs and make us tea." Hannibal looks at the clothes, then back up at Will. Friendship is strange, it's an uncomfortable feeling to be so at ease with someone else. It's never happened before, someone spending so much time with him willingly and surviving, and not paying for treatment. Will is just another person, who somehow crossed his path, and had decided to stay there. Decided to bandage him and go far out of his comfort zone. He'd gotten to know Will, and none of this was something he was comfortable doing. He'd rushed to Hannibal's just to tell him he'd kissed Alana, and here he was handing him a pair of his own clothes. This was friendship, Hannibal decided, they were actual friends. Will and Hannibal had very different views on what was normal then the rest of the world, and though their views differed from each others as well; their differences from society was something they bonded over.

"I appreciate it Will, really. I appreciate everything, thank you." Will smiled slightly, looking him directly in the eye as he shrugged. They held eye contact for a second before Will turned and headed back down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal sits for a minute before slowly limping back to Will's bathroom, the clothes still in his hands. He smiles slightly to see that Will laid out a fresh towel for him, and some more bandages. His dress shirt, blazer, shoes and jacket are gone; Will isn't as bad of a host as he thinks. He shuts the door, leaving the clothes on the lid of the toilet, and leans on the sink. He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment before undoing his slacks; hooking his thumb through his briefs and sliding them both down. There's an ugly looking red mark at the top of his thigh, presumably a knee to the groin that missed. He touches it gently, he's in pretty bad shape. It would appear he lost the fight, Tobias may even have taken him down if it weren't for luck. His lips twitch slightly, it's better that he's the one who took the worst of it; it'll help make him seem innocent. He can easily say Tobias came to kill his patient, and then turned his aggression onto him simply because he knew too much. If he could convince Will he had nothing to do with it, play the part of a man in the wrong place at the wrong time, Will would be able to convince everyone else. He slips off his socks and turns on the water as hot as it goes. It heats up quickly, steaming enough to fog the mirror. He makes it a little cooler before stepping in, the heat of the water cause his skin to tingle and redden. It feels wonderful, and he stands there for a moment while the water soothes his tense muscles. Whatever blood is left on him turns the water red as it runs down the drain, and he's careful as he washes his hair to avoid the cuts. The shampoo smells like Will, and he closes his eyes and inhales it deeply. He peels off the bandages and washes all the cuts again; washing his knuckles where the skin had split open from the punches. Battle wounds weren't something he enjoyed looking at, and he knew he'd have some marks he wouldn't be able to cover. Signs of physicality was a turn off to him, he didn't need bruises and cuts to show his masculinity. His body is already starting the healing process, he can feel his lip and face swelling. He sighs when he shuts the water, drying himself best he can without causing more pain.

He slips his briefs back on after he bandages his leg again, wishing he had another pair, and the sweatpants follow. That's when he hears talking downstairs, followed by heavy feet on the stairs. It's certainly not Will, Will doesn't have the inner anger to produce such stomping. "Hannibal," and the door swings open, and there's Alana Bloom and she looks furious. He stands there, fresh bandage in hand, staring at her. Her eyes flicker over his bare chest, then back to his face. "I always worry about Will getting too close, I wasn't aware I had to worry about you too." She takes a few steps closer, and he looks away to redress his other cuts.

"Word travels quickly," he says simply, looking down at his hip. Alana takes the bandage from his hand and swats his away, moving the fabric down just enough that she can cover the entire wound. "Everyone's fussing over me, I never get to be pampered." He's grinning at her, but she doesn't smile back.

"It's not funny, Hannibal. You could've gotten yourself killed, look at you. What is with men and thinking they need to bring down all the bad guys on their own?" She reaches for more first aid tape and goes to cover a cut on his back he didn't know was there. He stands perfectly still, feeling her soft hands brush against his warm skin. Will had just kissed her, he shouldn't be letting himself enjoy her touch. He knew Alana was attracted to him, he felt it, yet he didn't need Will discovering this and being offended.

"I'm not laughing, merely stating I'm enjoying the attention," he replies, and she looks up to meet his eyes.

"Thank God he didn't break any bones in your face," her voice is down to a whisper and she's no longer angry, her fingers reach up and gently touch the darkening bruise under his eye. He stays perfectly still, letting her fingers brush his damp hair off his face and travel down his nose to his lips. He lets the breath he was holding out of his mouth when her thumb grazes his split lip. Her other hand clasps his the back of his neck and pulls, he lets her lower his head so she can reach; her lips are gentle as they brush his broken skin. It's hesitant at first, then her lips push more forcefully against his. It hurts slightly, but he tilts his head and moves his mouth against hers. He doesn't lift his hands to touch her, and it doesn't seem to bother her. He reaches up and pushes the door closed, and she reaches for his hands, bringing them up and holding them against her hips for a moment before letting hers travel gently up his back and tangle in his hair. She's gentle yet persistent, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

She's dominating the encounter, and he allows it; keeping his hands planted on her hips and letting he tongue explore his mouth until they both need air. His body is hot again, and he smiles at her slightly right before she pulls him down again and kisses him less gently. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispers against his lips, turning them to push him back against the sink, "Don't scare me like that again."

Her hands are so soft when they trail down his chest, he returns the gesture by letting his hands brush up and down her sides. He needs to breathe again and he breaks his mouth away, and her lips just settle on his neck instead. Flush against his, he can feel her warmth through her clothes as she presses him against the sink. Her soft kisses on his neck turn to slight nibbles, and he feels the wetness of her tongue tickle his ear. He makes a noise in his throat, turning his head back to kiss at her neck where it meets her collar bone. Her hands travel down to his hip, and across to feel the outline of his growing hardness. He flinches when he touches the tender spot on his thigh. "I'm sorry," she says, raising her head to kiss his lips again.

"Alana," he warns gently, reaching to take her hand away from between his legs, "Do remember we're in Will's bathroom, and after recent events, I sincerely doubt Will would appreciate us doing this in his bathroom." She clasps his hand, taking a slight step back.

"He told you, about the kiss," she looks away from his eyes.

"Yes, I think you hurt his pride a bit. He said you are very kissable, I can't say I disagree. Though this is unfair to him, "

She smirks slightly, "I adore Will, him and I just wouldn't be good for each other. Especially when my mind was on kissing someone else." Her voice is low and seductive, and her fingers brush the soft hair on his lower belly. He shudders slightly, catching her hands again.

"You're playing with fire, dear Alana. You aren't being very careful with a damaged man," she smiles shyly, and he steps away from her and pulls Will's shirt over his head.

"I've never seen you dressed so comfortably," she comments as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it.

"I'm always comfortable, and I do prefer when women don't see me looking like a homeless man."

She laughs quietly, "This is a good look on you, too. I'm pleased I'm the woman who gets to see you like this."

"We best join Will, before he begins to worry. Perhaps we can resume this at a more appropriate time," he smiles at her and reaches up to brush his fingers against her cheek. He doesn't give her time to respond, and he opens the door and limps towards the stairs. He hears her close behind him, her arm wrapping tightly around his waist when he's at the top of the stairs. "I can certainly make it on my own," he says, yet he lets her hold onto him.

"I'm sure you can," she says simply, and when they reach the bottom of the stairs they both see Will's sleeping form on his couch. "I'm glad he's asleep, I've been worried about him."

They turn for the kitchen, finding two cups of slightly cooled tea sitting on the counter for them. "As was I, he really does need his rest." He sips the cooling tea black, and it's warm enough make his mouth tingle, and then he passes her the other mug. She sips it black too, holding it with both hands.

"Perhaps you should give Will a chance, he has feelings for you," He says conversationally.

"Do you?" She questions, neither of them looking at each other.

He chooses his words carefully, "You're beautiful, Alana. Beautiful, intelligent, and all around lovely. I'm not partial for dating officially, I do feel Will would be someone who is looking for a relationship you deserve."

She looks thoughtful, "I think a lot, Hannibal. I think way too much to just be with someone, I think way too much to just feel. I haven't had a date in so long, I'm certainly not looking for something serious. Do you date often?"

He looks up at her, sipping his tea again, "I suppose I don't often date, the people I come into contact with I'm forbidden by my oath as a psychiatrist to see outside of the office. I don't believe I'm a man for serious relationships anyway. Perhaps you shouldn't think, and just feel. You don't have to think about everything so thoroughly.

She smiles at him again, tilting her head, "I haven't learned how to do that yet."

"I've heard it takes some practice, perhaps we can work on that further." He's so smooth, she feels like she can melt under his gaze the way he's looking at her. She blushes slightly, sipping her tea and looking out Will's kitchen window. She feels him step towards her, and a noise in the living room distracts them both. Hannibal moves quicker than her, despite his condition. Will is having a nightmare, the light blanket tangled around him. Hannibal is surprisingly gentle, shaking Will's writhing form until the other man starts awake.

"You were having a nightmare, Will. It's alright," it's soothing, the way Hannibal sits on the edge of the couch, his hand resting on Will's shoulder. "What is it, Will? What frightens you so terribly in your sleep?"

Will reaches for the coffee table, grabbing his glasses and putting them in their place. "I just can't escape the death, it's everywhere. I cause it, it's my fault you were attacked."

Hannibal shakes his head, "It's most certainly not your fault, Will. And I'm alright, you cleaned me up and I'm going to be just fine."

"It very easily could have ended worse, Hannibal." Alana stands in the doorway of the kitchen, observing the two men interact on the couch. As much as she loves Will, as attracted as she is to him, she knows trying to be with him will do more damage than good. She doesn't want to damage him further, she enjoys their friendship. Besides, she can't shake the urges and desires she has towards Hannibal Lecter. The man entices her, lures her in, he appeals to every part of her being. He always has, since the day they met and he had kissed the back of her hand and said it was his pleasure to meet her. It made her skin tingle warmly, and her face flush, even the memory did. Her fingertips brush against her lips, wishing it was his again. She's sure she'll find another way to make it happen again, she needed it too.


	3. Chapter 3

It doesn't take too long for Will to finally settle down, especially with Hannibal's quiet reassurance. He's awake and alert now, and Hannibal is sitting comfortably on the other side of the couch. Alana had watched from the doorway for awhile, observing the calming effect Hannibal had over Will. She was interested in the way he made other people feel; Hannibal had a way to force people to feel the way he wanted them too; that was extremely interesting to her. Will's psyche was interesting, but she found Hannibal's just as interesting. The man had a way about him, he controlled his universe and everything in it with such subtle manipulation that no one was even aware of what he was doing. It was part of his charm, a smile and subtle suggestion in elegant language that made you feel compelled to do as he said. It only took a few rounds of 'Calm down, Will' before the man actually did, then Hannibal retreated to the other side of the couch.

She joined them in the sitting room then, taking a seat on the recliner opposite the couch. Her eyes drifted from Will to Hannibal. Will looked far away in thought, and Hannibal's eyes looked like they could close at any second. "I've never seen you like this," she commented, taking another sip of her tea.

Hannibal's lips tugged into a slight smile, "It's been a very long day, I haven't been this worn in quite some time."

She resisted the urge to go sit by him and play with his disheveled hair. The man was typically so well put together, always one hundred percent prepared; to see him dressed casually and tired was a treat. She chased away the image of him laying in bed, his head resting on her while she let her fingers massage his scalp. Coming out of her strange daydream, she noticed his eyes were closed, his head propped up by his hand. The sight of a sleeping Hannibal was delightful, his features were far less sharp and intimidating. "Do you like Chinese?" Will's voice distracted her, and she realized she had been openly staring at the sleeping man before her.

"I do," and then Will stood up and grabbed his keys.

"I'm going to go get us some to eat, I need to get some air and clear my head. Do you think he likes Chinese food?" he gestured to Hannibal who didn't stir at all. She tried to picture him eating something so civilian, it was impossible.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. We can figure something out for him when he gets up." Will nodded, seeming distant. "Are you alright Will? You know what happened doesn't change anything, you can still come to me with anything you need." He looked up at her finally, his mouth twitching.

"I wont try to kiss you again unless you want me to," he informed her.

"Oh, Will. It's not that I didn't want you to, I just don't want to hurt you." It was the truth, they both knew it. Will smiled slightly, backing up towards the front door.

"I know, I'll be back in a bit," he glanced at Hannibal's form one last time before patting the nearest dog on the head and leaving. Alone in the room with Hannibal, she was thrilled. She chose the seat on the couch next to him, stroking one of the dogs as it came to sit next to her. She studied the slow rise and fall of his chest and the slight twitching of his fingers on the hand that sat in his lap. Her caring nature took over, and she knew the position he was in would likely give him a sore neck. Gently, she reached forward and touched the slightly twitching hand. He was awake the same second he was touched, his body alert alarmingly quick.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically, her hand resting on the back of his.

"I'm an extremely light sleeper, I must be more tired than I thought to have fallen asleep," his voice is a little hazy, and it's endearing. He looks vulnerable, the sight intoxicates her.

"I just figured you should lay down, your body is sore it needs proper rest," she retracts her hands from him and he sits up.

"Where has Will gone?"

She admires the way the shirt tightens over his muscular back as she stretches slightly, "He went to get us something to eat. We're alone," she isn't sure why she adds that in, but she's extremely aware of him being so close to her. The house is silent, aside from his quiet breaths. She's holding hers, resisting the urge to lean closer and kiss him. Like gravity, he tugs her towards him and her hand comes up to turn his face towards her, and she's kissing him again. She can't help but think he's fragile right now, or at least she's convinced herself he is right now. No matter what happens to him, Hannibal Lecter is not a fragile man. Emotional or physical trauma would never force him into the arms of anyone. She wants him to be fragile, just this once, she wants him to need some form of support; though she can sense he doesn't need what she's offering. She doesn't care, especially when she feels his lips moving against hers. He'll never need it, never ask for it, but right now he's allowing it and she indulges in her fantasy, letting her fingers tangle in his unruly hair. He's surprisingly passive, allowing her to tilt his face and deepen the kiss. She knows he's still in control, even by giving up control. She isn't in control, he's letting her be in control, which means he still makes the decisions. She takes the opportunity graciously, and she's never felt such a strong urge to continue kissing someone. She decides she wants more, tugging him towards her and laying back so he's on top of her. She's disappointed when his body tightens and he resists, breaking the kiss and sitting back again.

"Alana, as tempting as that is, we're still in Will's home," he explains, and she sits up, blushing.

"I'm sorry I don't know what's gotten into me, after what happened it just really upset me that I could have lost you," her voice sounds sad, though she tried to hide it.

"Well, instances like this often open our eyes to things. No need to apologize, and don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

"Why don't you go lay down? I can make you some tea. Will wont mind if you lay in his room." She's gentle, treating him like she'd treat Will.

"I don't feel particularly well, I just want to lay down," he admits, and he stands hesitantly, stretching his wounded leg carefully. She feels guilty for forcing herself on him when he's obviously in no state. Feeling protective, she snakes an arm around him. "I can manage on my own, I don't need people to keep fussing over me more." He sounds slightly aggravated, but she tightens her hold.

"Just let me help you, just to ease my worry," she says lightly, and he relaxes against her again and she helps him back upstairs. "I insist you rest and let me tend to you, you need to slow down for a bit, Hannibal." She says as he lays back on the bed, and she tucks the covers around him. He still looks slightly displeased, "Would you at least like some aspirin?" He shakes his head, his eyes closing heavily.

"Thank you, Alana," he mumbles, always polite. She hovers for another moment, thinking he's already drifted to sleep when he speaks again, "I must admit I don't sleep well with other people watching me so closely." He opens one eye, and she smiles awkwardly.

"Of course, I'm sorry to hover, I don't know what's going on with me," she waves her hand in the air and turns to leave.

"Typically, I would require you stay and lay with me; should this be my own home," he reassures, and she looks back to see a small smile playing on his lips.

"I hope you require it soon," and she turns to leave again, smiling slightly.


End file.
